She Plays For The Other Team
by chinkychunk
Summary: AU. Santana is a closet lesbian in the New Directions. Brittany is a new member of Vocal Adrenaline. All kinds of things can happen when the New Directions sneak into a Vocal Adrenaline rehearsal. Brittana romance, strong Quinntana & Pucktana friendships.
1. The One Where I Got Lost As Hell

_Okay, sneaking into Carmel High School is the dumbest thing I've ever done. This place is a maze._

That thought crossed my mind, as I followed Quinn's lead in an empty school corridor. In front of her were Rachel and Kurt, leading the way and checking to see if we were following them. Behind me were Tina and Mercedes, just passing through the double doors of the entrance.

"H-h-how do w-we even kn-know if they're rehearsing t-today? It's a S-s-Saturday!" asked Tina when she caught up, back pressed against a locker. Rachel looked back and shushed her, before replying, "That fleet of Range Rovers in the parking lot tells us that they're here."

"I still don't see why we have to be in here," whispered Mercedes as we turned a corner, keeping close to the wall, "We already saw them perform, remember?"

Kurt stopped abruptly and shuddered, "I can't forget. Their rendition of Rehab still haunts me in my dreams." Quinn caught me rolling my eyes at his theatricality, and I noticed her smirk.

_Ugh. As much as I hate her as my competition on the Cheerios, she really is my closest friend. She gets me._

We reached the side entrance of the auditorium. Rachel held up her hand as a signal to stop and turned to us, saying, "We're here because I heard that they recently got a batch of new dancers. Champions from competitions all over the country. That means their routines are going to get a lot better. The team we saw last time is apparently nothing compared to the team we have now."

"Besides, Santana and I haven't seen them perform yet, so we still don't believe they can be as good as you said they are," whispered Quinn as she peeked through the tiny window on the door, "Damn it. The glass is frosted. We'll have to go inside. Ready?"

"In a minute," replied Kurt, taking a deep breath. He looked at me and Quinn with his eyebrow raised, "Did you two really have to come here in your Cheerios uniforms? You'll stick out like sore thumbs in the darkness."

"Shut it, twinkletoes. The only one they'll see glowing in the darkness will be you, because you can't seem to turn off your fairy dust. If we have to run out of this place, they'll just follow your glitter trail," I snapped instinctively, earning instant silence from Kurt and a muffled chuckle from Quinn.

Rachel held a finger to her lips and glared at me. I opened my mouth to tell who she could and could not shush, but Quinn's hand at my arm stopped me. I looked over at her, and she shook her head with a smile, pointing at the door that Rachel had already opened.

_All right, all right. The hobbit gets to live for today_.

We crept into the auditorium in single-file. We hid behind the last row of chairs and considered sitting in them. It was too risky, so we just hid behind cover and peeked just enough to see what was going on onstage.

Thirty people dressed in dance clothes were assembled onstage, discussing and arranging their formation for a routine. Some of them were practicing at the side, others were chatting animatedly in the back. At the center stage stood someone who seemed to be their choreographer, barking orders and pointing at people who had to change their positions. After five minutes of shuffling the dancers around, he called for a run-through. The member of Vocal Adrenaline briskly took their places and stood there attentively waiting for the music to begin.

"Just how good are they?" asked Quinn, looking over at Kurt and Rachel.

"Very," replied Rachel, not even taking her eyes off the stage, "They've been national champions for three years in a row. They're like show choir royalty. With this new batch of dancers—"

The music started.

Judging from the shocked looks on everyone's faces, this was a whole new routine. Guys were doing somersaults, girls were doing jump-splits—Holy shit. They had more stunts than our last Cheerios routine. Their voices were in perfect harmony with each other. The others were right. Vocal Adrenaline was the real deal.

Halfway through the routine, I noticed a particularly exceptional dancer. While all the girls danced with their hair tied in ponytails, her blonde hair was let loose, moving along as she danced. I wondered if she had started that way or if she had danced hard enough to ruin the hairstyle. It wasn't just her hair that set her apart from the others. She moved with a different kind of grace. While the others danced with a steely sense of control, she danced like a loose cannon, barely holding all her energy in. I was captivated by her sudden aerial as she approached the front of the stage.

"Holy shit, did you see that?!" gasped Kurt, eyes wide and glued to the stage.

"She must be one of the new dancers," said Mercedes, squinting, "I would've noticed her during their last performance."

I glanced over at Rachel. The look on her face was torn between fear and admiration. "I never thought they could get better, but they did. How are we going to compete against that?"

"W-we d-d-don't," answered Tina from the end of the row. I silently agreed with her. I had never seen a team that good—and I was part of the Cheerios for crying out loud.

Quinn nudged me with her elbow. "We should get out of here before they notice us. I think we've seen enough," she whispered. Rachel nodded, and the others filed out of the auditorium quietly. I stayed behind, still watching that blonde dancer, who was partnering up with a guy and doing some really insane tricks. For God's sake, some of it looked like it was wrestling inspired.

_I hope he doesn't drop her._

I stopped myself. That was a strange thought. Normally, when I watched other cheerleading teams perform, I'm actually hoping their pyramids collapse or that the bitchy captains sprain their ankles. I don't think I've ever rooted for an opponent before. Weird.

"Santana!" hissed Quinn, calling me from the side door. She gestured me to hurry, and I took one last look at the girl onstage, before taking a step towards the exit.

"DON'T STOP BELIEVING~ HOLD ON TO THAT FEELING~"

All of a sudden, that Journey song filled up the entire auditorium, echoing everywhere. The performers onstage stopped and squinted hard at the audience area. Frozen in place, I looked over at Quinn who was holding the door open. Behind her, I saw Rachel, whose mouth was wide open in shock as her eyes stared at the floor behind me. I turned around and saw a pink phone, lying on the ground where she had been hiding.

"At the back! Side door! Someone's watching us!"

I looked at the stage, and saw the dancers jump off the stage and run in my direction.

_Damn it, Berry. You owe me for this._

I spun on my heel and ran, scooping Rachel's phone off the ground. "Over here, meatheads!" I called, as I burst out of the main exit. I paused in my panic—right or left? Right or left?! The footsteps behind me were a lot louder than they'd been five seconds ago. Impulsively, I turned to the left and ran, making sure my footsteps were loud enough for them to follow me.

_I don't even know why I'm running. I don't know what they're gonna do to me. But I sure as hell don't want to find out!_

Those thoughts raced through my mind, as I sprinted around unfamiliar corridors. I'd lost count of how many turns I'd taken. I looked behind me and saw that five members of Vocal Adrenaline still continued the chase: three guys and two girls, both of whom were brunettes.

_Is it even relevant that they're not blonde?!_

Mentally scolding myself, I made a sharp turn to the right and grabbed the closest doorknob. Thank God, a broom closet! I jumped inside and hid behind the door. Trying to control my breathing, I listened for them outside. Their footsteps slowed down, and they seemed to be right outside.

"Crap, she got away. Freaking fast cheerleader."

"What was a cheerleader doing, watching our practice?"

"A cheerleader spying on show choir? Cheerleaders don't do show choir."

"I think I recognized her uniform. A team that was national champs last year—"

"The Cheerios? The ones from that public high school?"

Their voices trailed away, and I figured that they had gone back to the auditorium. To pass the time, I looked at Rachel's phone. The damn thing was the cause of this mess. I checked her missed calls. Lo and behold, it was Finn's fault. One missed call and two text messages, one of which said "How's the recon going?" I was tempted to send him a threatening message about how my fist wanted to do some recon in the space between his ears, but I resisted. Quinn would be proud.

I waited a couple minutes and peeked out of the closet. The coast was clear, so I walked out and stood at the corner, thinking of how to meet the others back at the parking lot.

I needed to be careful, so I looked around the edge of the corner and—

BAM. I remember the feeling of someone's forehead colliding with mine so hard, that I was knocked backwards. I landed on my ass with a thud, and the other person fell back as well, with her head in her hands to soothe the pain. Her blonde hair covered her face. She was wearing grey sweats, and a blue tank top that clung to her like a second skin. She looked familiar…

_Oh shit, it's the dancer._

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going—" She looked up with a strained smile, and I saw blue eyes, with tears at the corners.

_She's beautiful._

Bright blue eyes were looking right at me. Her skin was perfect, not a blemish in sight. The smile on her lips looked pained at the moment, and I could see where I had hit her forehead, just above her left eye. Her hair was even messier now that it had been onstage. And that smile…

"Are you okay? Do you need help getting up?" Suddenly, she was on her feet, standing over me and offering her hand. I took it instinctively, marveling at how soft her skin is, and she pulled me up to my feet. _She's really strong too_.

Once I'm standing, I realize that I was just gaping like an idiot. "I'm really sorry. It was my fault, I was—" I stopped myself suddenly. _Oh crap, she knows. She knows I'm not a student here_.

She raised her eyebrow at my sudden silence, and looked at me from top to bottom. Her eyes lingered on the WMHS emblazoned on my uniform. I resisted the urge to cover my chest with my arms. _For God's sake, Lopez, it's not like she's checking you out!_

Realization sparked in her eyes, and she grinned. "You were the one watching our rehearsal, weren't you?" She asked with a lop-sided grin. I looked down at my feet, and considered my options. I could either run away right now or—actually, that was the only option. I was prepared to take and step back, when she suddenly grabbed my arm. I looked up at her in surprise, and she smiled even bigger when she asked, "Where do you think you're going? You don't even know the way out of here."

"I—" She was right. I was undeniably lost. Carmel High School was huge, and I had no idea how to get back or how far I had even run. "Look, I'm sorry. I don't usually do stuff like this."

"Stuff like what?" she inquired, tilting her head to the side.

I cleared my throat and looked to the side, trying not to make eye contact with her. "Sneaking around and checking out the competition."

She paused, deep in thought, and suddenly exclaimed, "So there were others with you! I knew I had heard other footsteps in the other hallway."

"How did you get that from what I just told you?!"

She smiled shyly and said matter-of-factly, "Well, you said that you don't do stuff like that usually. So if it's not normal for you, then someone probably made you do it or brought you along with them." She laughed heartily. "You must be pretty good friends to actually be willing to sneak into another school just for a friend! Anyway… You're alone right now. Where are you supposed to meet the others?"

_Damn, she's perceptive_. "I think I'm supposed to meet them in the parking lot," I mumbled, still surprised by how she figured things out so easily. Suddenly, she pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket and unfolded it, scanning its contents with a finger pressed against it. Curious, I tilted my head to look at it. It looked like a map of the school—the strange thing about it was that it was drawn in crayon.

"You need a map to get around your own school?" I exclaimed in disbelief, almost instantly regretting how loud I had been. Realizing that that might have sounded like an insult, I opened my mouth to apologize but she replied sheepishly without looking up from the map,

"I'm new here, transferred in just last week. So I still need this sometimes. Besides, this place is huge! I don't think I'll ever stop using this. I always get lost without a map anyway."

The honesty in her answer made me grin, so I worked up the courage to ask, "And why is it drawn in crayon?"

Answering that question, she looked me right in the eye. _They really are bright blue_. "When I toured the school last weekend, my little sister came along. She insisted on making the map." She laughed aloud. "I'm glad I let her do it, because she made it really colorful. I just wish her handwriting were a bit more legible, so I can actually find out where we are on this thing!"

She studied it for a few more seconds and closed it with a satisfied smile. "Figured it out! Follow me, I'll show you to the parking lot." With that, she started walking briskly back the way that she came. Taken by surprise, I stayed rooted to my spot. _How can a stranger be this nice…?_

She realized that I hadn't followed her and jogged back to me. "Come on, before your friends leave you. My team mates are probably hunting them down with eggs." All of a sudden, she grabbed me by my wrist and pulled me along, picking up the pace to an almost-sprint. I had to quicken my pace just to keep up with her. In a minute, I was already panting, while she didn't seem to break a sweat yet.

After a while, I recognized the double doors in front of us. They led to the back parking lot, where Kurt had parked his SUV behind a shade of trees. She walked beside me, smiling as we reached our destination. We stopped right in front of the doors, and she gestured to them with a bow. "Here we are. The back parking lot. You're free to go."

"Are you sure you can just lead me out of here like this?" Those words spilled out of my mouth. I didn't want her to get into trouble for helping me. "I mean, what if your team mates find out?"

She smiled in a goofy way and answered, "Nothing's wrong with helping lost people."

That simple answer made me feel… something. "Thanks." I held her hand in both of mine, and grinned back at her. "I don't even know your name."

From there, she shook my hand firmly.

"I'm Brittany."

_Pretty name to suit a pretty girl._

"Santana."

"Well, Santana, like I said, you better get going before your friends think you were abducted by aliens or something like that." She walked over and pushed one door open, holding it with her arm. From where I was standing, I could see Quinn leaning against Kurt's car, texting furiously on her phone. Kurt was already at the wheel, glancing around for any Carmel High students. I figured Rachel, Mercedes and Tina were probably hiding in the backseat. _You'd think they're preparing to get hit by a drive-by_.

"I see them outside." I walked through the open door, stopping to smile at her before leaving.

"Thanks again, Brittany. I owe you for this."

She shrugged and simply said with a smile, "I'll see you around, Santana."

With that, I was out and the door was closed behind me.


	2. The One Where We Almost Pissed Our Pants

"Jesus, Santana! Where have you been? And who was that?" hissed Quinn, running over to me as I walked to the car. I couldn't help grinning at her, and she stopped right in front of me. _I'll tell you later_. She nodded in silence, and turned around back to the others.

Kurt stuck his head out of the window and gestured desperately, "Get in the car, Cheerios, before those 'roid monkeys find us!"

I rode shotgun, so Quinn sat in the backseat, sandwiched between the door and Berry. Without a word, I tossed Rachel her cellphone, barely holding in a laugh as she almost dropped it in surprise. When I put on my seatbelt, I felt a hand on my shoulder and a muttered "Thanks, Santana." I shrugged, smiling inwardly.

_I guess these Glee losers aren't all that bad._

Kurt backed out of the parking lot and drove quickly, headed for the Lima Bean. Once we were all settled in the car, there was moment of silence—and we all burst out laughing, talking at once about what had just happened.

"God, Rachel, your damn phone ruined the mission!"

"Blame Finn! He's the one that called!"

"Y-y-you could h-have put it on silent m-mode!"

"Forget that, did you see the look on Kurt's face when those Vocal Adrenaline guys started doing full splits?!"

"Hey, in my defense, I don't think I was the only one who found that insanely hot!"

"Amen!" resounded throughout the car. Well, except for me, since my thoughts were still stuck on Brittany. Noticing my silence, Quinn asked, "And Santana! Geez, where the hell did you go? We thought they'd caught you."

"Please. You think they'd be able to catch me? I always beat you at sprinting in practice. Those muscle monkeys didn't even come close." _Okay, maybe I had almost gotten close, but they didn't need to know that. _"I just ran circles around them until they gave up." _No need to mention hiding in the closet._

Mercedes piped in, "And how did you even find your way out? We stuck together, but we still kept hitting dead-ends. Kurt was ready to go on his knees and beg for mercy."

"I guess I got lucky."

Kurt laughed while parking outside the Lima Bean. "You call yourself just lucky? Do you even know what Vocal Adrenaline did to the last person they caught snooping in their auditorium?"

Curious, I looked at him with a raised brow. "What did they do?"

"Well, the last guy was forced to appear in a student's cover of Run, Joey, Run. Needless to say, when that video went viral, he was forced to change schools—"

"What's wrong with that song? I like it!" interrupted Rachel.

Everyone but her retched audibly in the car, so she kept her mouth shut afterwards. "Anyway, as I was saying," continued Kurt, "that happened to the last guy. The last girl, however... I hear that they found out where she went to school and egged her in front of everybody in the parking lot."

_Yikes. So that's what Brittany meant when she said that her team mates hunt people down with eggs. _A blush crept to my cheeks just thinking about Brittany. "Well, I guess I really am lucky," I said, as I unbuckled my seatbelt. We climbed out of the car and entered the coffee shop. After ordering our drinks at the counter, we sat at a table by the window, since Kurt wanted to keep his car in sight.

"You never know what kind of psychos might try to steal my baby," he said as he sat down beside Mercedes, taking a sip from his vanilla latte. "Or you know, someone might try to throw a random brick through my windshield again— Ow!"

Mercedes elbowed him hard in the ribs and laughed, saying "Oh, shut up, Kurt! It's your fault for saying you were in love with Rachel."

"I don't see how being in love with me justifies a response like that!" exclaimed Rachel. We all laughed at that comment. _God, being around these guys gets easier everyday._ In mid-laugh, I caught Quinn's eye and the expression on her face told me that she wanted to talk alone.

I stood up from the table, excusing myself. "All that running made me hungry. I need some cake."

"I'll go with you. I'm craving for a cinnamon bun." Quinn got up and walked with me to the display case. While we pretended to pick sweets from the case, she whispered in a low voice, "Okay, Lezpez, I know that look in your eyes. You met someone." Her eyes widened and she looked at me with a huge grin. "It was that girl at the door, wasn't it?"

_Typical Quinn. She can still read me like a book._ Ever since I told Quinn that I was a lesbian last year, she was really supportive. She offered to use her position as captain to scout out lesbians in try-outs. I thought she was kidding, until she filled up the two empty slots on the pyramid with two girls who can't seem to grip me right when I land for a cradle.

"Keep it down, Fabray," I muttered through gritted teeth, but I knew she knew that she was right. "Yeah, you saw her. Her name's Brittany." Saying her name felt pretty good. "She was pretty awesome."

At that point, I couldn't help grinning, and Quinn raised her eyebrows with a smug look on her face. But a second later, her face fell into a confused look, as she asked, "Wait… Does that mean that she's a student there?"

"… Yeah."

"Oh, God. Santana, is she part of Vocal Adrenaline?"

"Um… You remember that dancer that did that aerial during their routine? Basically that cartwheel without hands?" I called the attention of the barista and pointed at the slice of Oreo cheesecake that I wanted. Quinn nodded to me, as she picked a cinnamon bun from the display case. I didn't even look her in the eye, when I told her,

"Well, that was Brittany."

Silence. The barista charged us at the cashier. I fished out my wallet and paid for both me and Quinn, who was still busy staring at nothing in particular inside the display case. Holding the tray that carried our food, I turned to face her, a bit worried because she seemed troubled by the news.

She looked me right in the eye and sighed. I mentally prepared myself for a scolding.

"Damn, Lezpez, you sure pick good ones."

I couldn't help laughing, almost dropping the tray. Quinn rushed forward and held it in support. Once the fit of laughter was over, she looked at me seriously and said, "You don't want the others to know, do you?"

I shook my head, hard enough to make the plates on the tray I was holding shake and slide across the surface. "I can't tell them, Quinn. They don't even know I'm gay. Besides, we're only starting to get along with them. Anyway, I don't think I'm going to see Brittany again. Except maybe at competitions." With a shrug, I sighed and Quinn put an arm around my shoulders, leading me back to the table.

"Cheer up, Santana," she said with a wicked glint in her eye. "There's always going to be a new batch of fresh Cheerios for you in McKinley."

I rolled my eyes and retorted, "For Christ's sake, Quinn, those rookies that you picked are the ones that molest me!" Her eyes widened at the information. We were still laughing when we got back to the others, whose eyes were fixed to the window for some reason. Kurt's face was a lot paler than usual. Rachel's mouth was hanging wide open. Mercedes and Tina looked like they were ready to bolt.

"What's wrong with you guys?" I snapped as I sat down, "Did Rachel finally see herself in the reflection and realize that she's Medusa?" I took a bite of my cheesecake, when they turned back to face me and Quinn with similar shocked expressions.

Rachel was the first to speak. "There's a Range Rover parking outside. And it has a Vocal Adrenaline sticker on its bumper."

Tina stammered, "D-d-do y-you think th-they f-f-followed us here?!"

Quinn sipped her tea calmly and said, "Don't be ridiculous. There was no one in the parking lot when we left. Except for—" Then she paused and looked right at me.

_Oh shit. I know what's she's thinking. Brittany wouldn't—I mean, she seemed so nice. She couldn't—That car might not even be Brittany's!_

I tried to keep my calm, as I turned to face the door of the Lima Bean. There was only one entrance. She'd have to pass through there. There's no other—

BAM-BAM-BAM!

All of us screamed and jumped up from the table, surprised by the sudden pounding on the window. Kurt had spilled his latte all over Rachel's shirt, and Quinn's cinnamon bun had found its way on Tina's lap. As hilarious as the scene probably was, my eyes were glued to the grinning blonde who had knocked to get my attention.

She was alone, still dressed in her dance clothes. Waving excitedly at me, she gave everyone an apologetic look and motioned that she was heading inside. I think I nodded. I must have acknowledged her somehow, because she smiled right at me and headed for the door. It was only when she was out of my sight that I realized…

_Oh shit. Brittany's coming in. _I glanced at my still-terrified friends (_did I really just say that?_)

_Brittany's coming in. She's going to meet all of them. And they're going to meet her._

* * *

**A/N: Hey, guys. It's my first time writing a fanfic, so please excuse the mistakes that I'm sure I'll make from time to time. Thanks for the reviews. :) It's awesome to see how active members can be on this forum. I'll probably update this in a couple days.**


	3. The One When They Met Brittany

"Kurt, you ruined my shirt!" screeched Rachel suddenly, looking at her latte-stained sweater. Everyone was yanked out of their scared-as-hell state. Quinn started apologizing to Tina, and grabbed some tissues to wipe the cream off her jeans. Mercedes started straightening the table and the fallen utensils. I looked at my slice of cheesecake and sighed in relief. _Still safe_.

While dabbing a napkin on the reindeer pattern of Rachel's sweater, Kurt looked right at me and asked, "Santana, who was that? She was smiling right at you. She scared the be-jesus out of us!"

"She actually looked familiar…" added Mercedes, sitting down at the table and sipping her drink through a straw. With a sudden realization, she choked and sputtered, spitting out some of the contents. "Holy crap, I think we saw her back in Carmel!"

Tina looked up, with Quinn still trying to clean her up. "D-does that m-m-mean—The c-car outs-side! Sh-she's from V-v-vocal Adrenaline!" Her eyes widened, and I almost laughed at how un-Asian she looked at the moment.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm not going to sit around and wait for the rest of them to come egg us!" Kurt jumped to his feet and grabbed his bag, tossing it over his shoulder. "And I refuse to be coerced into a sadistic production of Run, Joey, Run!"

Quinn stopped him with a hand at his elbow and pulled him back. "Calm down, Kurt," she told him, though she was looking at me worriedly. "She probably thought she recognized some friends and beat on the window by accident. I mean, you saw how sorry she looked after we all jumped up."

He sighed and slid back to his seat. "Yeah, you're right, how could she even recog—"

"Hey, Santana! I didn't think I'd see you around here!"

_I think my heart just ached a little bit._

I spun around and saw Brittany walking over with a drink in hand. She had the same heart-stopping grin on her face, and I couldn't help smiling back. Quinn walked over until she stood slightly behind me. Everyone else had gotten back into their chairs and inched just a little bit closer to the window.

_Honestly, do they think she's a serial killer or something? With that kind of smile?_

Brittany stopped in front of me, and looked over everyone. "These must be your friends, the ones from the parking lot," she laughed, taking a sip from her drink. "I'm really sorry for scaring you back there. I was trying to signal Santana through the glass, but you guys seemed to be too busy staring outside. How did your great escape go?"

"Pretty well," I replied, watching how she gave everyone a little smile in acknowledgement. "We may have broken a couple speed limits to get away though."

Her face suddenly became serious as she said, "That must have been dangerous."

I jerked my thumb over to Kurt, who was probably thinking of using Rachel as cover against any eggs to be thrown in his direction. "Blame Porcelain over there. He thought your team mates would skin him alive and turn him into a purse."

She snorted and laughed at that comment, making my heart swell at the sound. _God, I like hearing her laugh_. "Vocal Adrenaline doesn't skin people—" She paused in mid-sentence. "At least, I don't think they do. But some people just might be mean enough to try…" Mercedes and Tina laughed at that point.

"Ahem."

I looked over my shoulder after Rachel cleared her throat to get everyone's attention. "Sorry to interrupt, but Santana, who is she?"

_Oh right. I have to introduce them all._

"Guys, this is Brittany. She, um, helped me back in Carmel High." I pointed everyone out as I said their names. "That's Rachel, the insufferable diva. This one's Kurt, the abominable gayman. She's Mercedes, but I prefer to call her Wheezy. And other there is Tina. You probably recognize her from those Ring movies a couple years ago." Their jaws dropped open, unable to react as I spun Brittany around to face Quinn. "And this is my best friend, Quinn."

Brittany reached out to shake her hand, which Quinn did firmly. Afterwards, everyone seemed to warm up to her. Kurt straightened up, and sipped what was left of his latte. I had already sat down, when I realized that Brittany was still standing. "Why don't you sit with us?" I asked, pulling a nearby chair until it was next to me.

"Are you sure it's okay with your friends?" mumbled Brittany, glancing at everyone else, who were still watching her warily. She shifted from side to side uncomfortably as if she'd just realized that she had walked up to a group of total strangers.

_She's freaking adorable._

I couldn't help laughing at her expression. "They don't mind. Right, guys?" I turned to face them and raised an eyebrow. _You owe me, Berry, _I mouthed to Rachel, who nodded in reply.

"We don't mind at all!" she said, too excitedly. "Any friend of Santana's is a friend of ours." Everyone else at the table nodded almost immediately. With a smile, Kurt added, "We may sneak around schools, but I promise that we don't bite."

Brittany smiled at that comment, and took the seat beside me. Her knee bumped into mine, and I felt a jolt kicking through the bare skin of my leg. Trying to distract myself from how close she was, I listened as the others asked her how she'd met me. She narrated the whole thing, from crashing into me in the corridor to leading me to the parking lot. Everyone laughed when she mentioned and showed the crayon map. I focused on eating my cheesecake in silence, trying to ignore how good she smelled.

_Everything about this girl is freaking perfect._

"Wait a minute, don't you still have rehearsals?" asked Mercedes.

"Um—" Brittany stopped talking and looked down at her lap, her hands twisting a paper napkin. Her silence was a bit strange. "I left early. I mean, I was already leaving when I bumped into Santana."

I swallowed a huge chunk of cake and recalled how we had collided.

_Wait a minute… I saw her crying. Was she already crying before we bumped into each other?_

"You were crying," I said slowly, turning my head to look at her. "I thought it was because we hit each other pretty hard. You ran away from the auditorium crying?"

Brittany's hands were already tearing that poor paper napkin to pieces. "Being part of Vocal Adrenaline is terrifying," she answered softly. The others had to lean in closely to listen. "The weekend rehearsals, the exercise and diet regimen… Even my own teammates scare me. When the others left to chase after you guys, some of the girls told me to re-do my dance solo again and again."

_Oh shit, I know where this is going. _

"I don't really know what happened. One of them bumped into me by accident, so I fell," she said. I could already see tears falling onto her lap. Without thinking, I put my arm around her shoulders and rubbed her back. She looked up and smiled at me weakly, tears filling her blue eyes. I had to resist the urge to hug her right then and there. "After I fell, this senior walked over and—" She took a deep breath. "She said some mean things. I couldn't stay there, so I just ran. But I can't blame her. I mean, I was messing up a lot and—"

"That girl was just being a bitch," interrupted Quinn, taking a bite of what she salvaged from her cinnamon bun.

"D-definitely a b-b-bitch," added Tina, giving Brittany a kind smile.

Grinning, Mercedes reassured Brittany, "We were there too, remember? We saw you up there. You were freaking phenomenal."

"Absolutely flawless," said Kurt and Rachel simultaneously, giving each other amused looks right afterward. Brittany laughed again, and I could have sworn I saw a brighter kind of light in her blue eyes.

Realizing my arm was still draped over her shoulders, I pulled away quickly and tried to lean back casually in my chair. "We can go back and get her back if you want," I offered with a smirk, "I want to give that bitch a good old Lima Heights Adjacent welcome."

Brittany laughed and smiled right at me. "Thanks, Santana, but you might just get lost in there again." I blushed and looked away as she continued, "And thanks to all of you for listening and all. Are you guys usually this nice to members of other teams? Aren't we supposed to be enemies?"

"That's not how we do things in the New Directions," answered Kurt with a wink.

"Besides, without your help, Santana might have come back to us as an omelet," joked Quinn, sticking her tongue out at me. Rolling my eyes at her comment and everyone else for laughing, I glanced over at Brittany, who was laughing too. Seeing her like that, I couldn't help chuckling a little at my own expense.

All of a sudden, a phone rang at the table. "Oops, sorry, that's mine," said Brittany, rummaging in her pockets. She pulled out her phone and answered the call cheerfully. "Hello? Oh, hey, Mom. I'm just at the Lima Bean with some frie—" Her smile fell, as she listened. "They actually called you? Okay, okay. I'm sorry, Mom. I'll head back right now. I'll see you later."

She closed her phone and sighed. "What was that about?" I asked, though I had a sick feeling that I already knew what was going on.

Brittany stood up abruptly. "I have to get back to rehearsal," she said dejectedly, "Sorry, guys. It was really nice to meet all of you!" With that, she turned around and headed straight for the door.

Instinctively, I jumped to my feet and called out, "Want to meet up out here on Monday?"

_Oops. That was pretty loud._

Looking over her shoulder, she threw me a genuine smile. _I know all her smiles by now… _"Sure, Santana." She walked out the door, and waved to us as she drove off in her car. We waved to her until she left the parking lot.

Once she was gone, Tina broke the silence by saying "N-n-nice girl."

"Hard to believe she's part of Vocal Adrenaline," agreed Kurt, playing with the leftover cream in his cup.

"Did anyone manage to get her number?" asked Rachel, pulling her phone out of her bag. "I want to know what moisturizer she uses. Her skin looked flawless." Everyone at the table shook their heads, muttering and grumbling that she had left too suddenly

_Oh shit. I didn't get her number either._

All of a sudden, my phone vibrated from my bag. _Did she manage to get my number somehow?_ I thought eagerly, ripping my bag open and searching through the contents for my damn phone. Once I got it, I flipped it opened and checked the latest message.

**From: Quinn Bitch Fabray**

LEZPEZ. You are whipped.

_Damn it, Quinn!_

I kicked her shin hard from under the table, but she still laughed despite the pain. The others didn't notice our scuffle, since they were busy talking about Vocal Adrenaline's crazy routine. I glared at Quinn one last time, before joining the conversation. She just gave me a knowing smirk in return.

The empty chair beside me caught my attention. I found myself missing a girl that I barely even knew.

* * *

**A/N: Is this going too slow...? With my current pace, I'm trying to establish a kind of link for details between every chapter. Reviews are appreciated, because I really don't know if I'm doing this right or not.**


	4. The One Where Noah Showed Up

**A/N: Sorry this update took longer than I expected. I've been so swamped with schoolwork recently. I literally declined going to the mall with my parents, saying "Sorry, I have papers to write". Lol. I bet they never imagined I meant fanfics about my fictional OTPs.**

**Well, this chapter focuses on a Pucktana friendship, which I think should've been explored more on the show. I mean, seeing them sitting together watching the New Directions' "Gangnam Style" performance made me realize just how much potential was wasted, in terms of developing their friendship beyond dating to FWBs to just being friends.**

* * *

The next day was a boring Sunday afternoon. I spent an hour lounging on my couch in the living room, staring at my phone and calling myself all kinds of insults for not getting Brittany's number. I'd just finished cursing myself with most of the Spanish ones that I knew, when the doorbell rang.

"Santana, can you get the door? I'm a little busy in the kitchen," called my mom. I pushed myself off the couch with a groan, and ran towards the door. I threw the door open wildly, without thinking to check who waited outside.

"Yo, Lopez. It's Sunday! Ready to go?"

_Oh crap, it's Noah. I forgot about it!_

At my front door stood Noah Puckerman, my friend from Glee Club and a football player in school. He had a cocky grin on his face, as he dusted his leather jacket. Under his arm, he tucked his motorcycle helmet, and his other hand offered me the helmet that I usually wore on our Sunday "dates".

* * *

Aside from Quinn, Noah was the only one who knew my secret. After sleeping with him a couple times (he was actually my first and I just wanted to get it over with), I blurted out, "Sorry, Puck, but I don't think I'm into you." He looked at me with a shocked expression on his face, but it softened when he joked, "Then you're probably a lesbian, babe."

Even though I knew he was just kidding, it got me thinking. I started noticing how my eyes lingered on other Cheerios during practice. I almost never glanced at the football players nearby, getting all sweaty and breathing like cavemen. Sure, some of them would interest me on occasion, but I never found myself attracted to them. It was like I was slowly realizing how their bodies almost seemed repulsive to me, compared to the lithe, slender forms of girls.

One night after a football game, which was another embarrassing loss against a nearby high school, I waited for Puck in the parking lot. I leaned on his bike, admiring how well he maintained it. _If only he actually could love girls the way he loves his damn bike._

"Ready to ride, Lopez?" he called, strutting over and tossing me a helmet. _For a guy who just lost a football game 21-0, he sure is pretty cocky. _Catching the helmet, I tucked it under my arm and grinned right back at him. He settled himself on the bike, and patted the seat behind him. "Come on, get on! You know you want to." He threw me a wink and I couldn't help laughing.

_He really is a sweet guy once you get to know him. It's a pity that I don't think I can love him._

"On you or the bike?" I retorted, sliding the helmet onto my head and getting behind him. Laughing, he reached behind and grabbed my arms, wrapping them around his waist. I could smell his aftershave and the hint of grease from his jacket. He smelled so familiar—but at the same time, I knew I didn't want the safe choice.

"Well, that's up to you, Santana," he said, giving me a wink and putting on his own helmet. "Are you into me tonight?"

I shocked myself when I honestly answered, "Noah, I think I'm gay."

His hands slipped while he revved up the engine, and the motor gave a strained whine. He glanced back at me with his eyebrow raised, and I could hear the confusion in his voice, even through the helmet. "You're gay?"

"I think so."

There was an awkward silence. It must have lasted for only a minute, but for me, it felt like an hour. I watched his hands clenched against the handles of his bike. I imagined his face scrunched up in thought behind the visor of his helmet. Even the sounds of his breathing seemed to be contemplative. I was considering getting off his bike and walking all the way home, when he suddenly spoke up.

"Does this mean we're not dating anymore?"

_Okay, I wasn't expecting that._

I burst out laughing, throwing my head back and almost unsteadying the bike. I had to take off the helmet to catch my breath. Noah had also taken his helmet off, and he was looking me right in the eye. Once I managed to keep my laughter in control, I told him, "When did we start dating, Noah? Sex isn't dating."

"So… No more sex then?"

"I don't think I can do that with you anymore."

"Not even hand stuff?"

"I'm gay, Noah. Capital G gay."

At that, he shrugged and smiled at me. Shifting in his seat, he took my helmet out of my hands and put it on me himself, adjusting the straps. "Bummer," he said, putting his helmet back on and turning the engine on. "That sucks," he continued, as we left the parking lot and headed down the main road, "because I was starting to get into you." He looked back, and I could just _feel_ him smirking at me. "You know, in a more than sexual way."

I scoffed and punched him lightly on the shoulder. The rest of the ride back to my house was full of him pointing at billboards and ads of half-naked women, and him suggesting all kinds of positions to try with them. I was too relieved to be offended by his explicit descriptions of just where I could place my face on another woman's body. I had just come out to Quinn the week before, so telling Noah was already taking another step forward.

When we got to my house, I handed him back the helmet and kissed the side of his visor. "Thanks for the ride," I whispered, hoping that he could hear just how much I appreciated him in that moment. I turned on my heel and walked towards my front door.

"Hey, Santana, wait!"

I stopped and turned around.

"Can we still go on dates and stuff?" His voice had gotten a lot softer, and he almost hesitated when he added, "I really like hanging out with you."

_I definitely wasn't expecting him to say that._

I knew I must have looked shocked in that moment. But after a while, I was probably grinning like an idiot when I replied, "Yeah, we can still go out, Noah. As long as you're still paying."

He laughed and agreed. Pausing with his foot on the throttle, he looked at me and joked, "I guess that makes us lesbros now?"

"I guess so."

"Okay then. I'll see you around, Lezpez."

And with that, he drove off. I stood at my front door and watched him go, until he turned the corner. That night, I knew I had made a great friend.

The next day in school, I told Quinn about what had happened, and she started calling me Lezpez too. Obviously, the nickname stuck, and the three of us were stuck together as friends, hanging out after football games and cheerleading practices.

Puck kept coming by my house every Sunday. Sometimes we would just stay in and watch a movie with my parents. They really liked having him around. A part of me was glad that they approved of him, even though he was just my best friend. On other days, we would head to the mall and just walk around together, eating and talking about the most random things. People who saw us just assumed we were dating, and news spread around school. Eventually, we decided that it could be fun to pretend to be a couple, but act all jealous when the other flirted with someone else. We would have public fights in the school hallways, but we would always laugh about them in private.

Before I knew it, the guy who I used to just sleep with had become someone I couldn't imagine my life without. _In a non-romantic way, of course_.

* * *

"Yo, earth to Lopez! Are you ready to go? I'm starving for some tacos."

_Oh geez, did I just space out in front of him?_

I gave him a light punch to the gut when I snapped, "I hope that wasn't a reference for _something else_ that you want."

Without missing a beat, he retorted, "I don't know. Is your taco back on the menu?"

"Hell no, Fuckerman!" I started pummeling his arm with punches, while he flailed and laughed.

"Language, Santana!" I heard my mom call from the kitchen, stopping me in mid-assault.

"Sorry, mami!" _I always forget that mothers have supernatural hearing_. Telling Noah to wait, I ran upstairs to grab my things. When I got back down, he was still there, leaning on the doorway with a smirk on his face.

"I told your mom I'd have you back after dinner," he said, holding the door open.

I ran back to the kitchen to say goodbye, giving my mom a peck on the cheek. "Have fun, you two," she whispered with a knowing glint in her eye. _Oh, Ma, if only you really knew what's going on between me and Noah… _A strange kind of regret tugged at my chest, but I pushed it aside. There was no point in telling her that we really were just best friends.

"Bye, Mrs. Lopez!" shouted Noah from the doorway.

He laughed when she answered, "Treat my girl well, Noah!"

"Always!"

After that, I shut the door behind us and we ran to his bike, which was parked a few meters away. We put on our helmets, once we were settled. He put his visor down and turned to me, "So where to, Lezpez?"

"Didn't you say you were craving for tacos? Why don't we go to Taco Bell?"

"I just remembered that we ate there last week. Any place you want to go?"

I thought hard for a while and answered, "Well, there's that new Italian restaurant that opened recently. I think it's called Breadstix."

"I know the place. Okay, hold on a bit tighter. I just tuned-up my baby recently, and I want to see what a freak she is on the road."

"Shut up and drive, Noah." I wrapped my arms around him and leaned on his back. Riding behind him had become so natural for me. The first time he went full-speed with me (_wanky_), I remembered feeling so sick afterwards that I couldn't keep my dinner down. He had to hold my hair while I puked in a pot on my front porch. When my parents arrived, surprised to see their daughter throwing up on a school night, he had to reassure them that it was just motion sickness, not morning sickness or alcohol.

When we got to Breadstix, I practically salivated over the smells wafting out of the front door. Noah barely had time to remove his helmet and turn off the engine, when I grabbed him by his sleeve and half-dragged him into the restaurant. The place was full of people. Luckily, there was one booth available in the back. We were seated there, sitting beside each other so it'd be easier to share food. A waiter came over and handed us the menus. I couldn't choose.

_Everything looks so freaking good!_

"You're drooling, Lezpez."

"Shut up. By the way, we're gonna eat here every Sunday from now on."

"We haven't even tried the damn food yet!"

"You smell that, Noah? We are definitely coming back here. I will never, ever leave my house to go out with you—unless we're eating here. Got it?"

He raised his hands in mock defeat and conceded, "Okay, okay. You're the boss. I'm just your bro."

"My lesbro."

"Your beard." He winked, and that really made me laugh hard.

"The most badass beard any girl could have."

When we had decided on what to order, Noah raised his hand to call a waiter over. Afterwards, he turned to me and smirked, "So what does a badass beard get for being awesome?"

I leaned on his shoulder and answered, "Nothing."

"Not even _one _kiss?"

At that, I looked up and smiled at him. "Still capital G gay, Noah."

He gave a dramatic sigh, and put his arm around me. "That's a real bummer, Lopez. I'm crying inside. Really, I am."

I shifted until I was comfortable, and replied, "Sorry to bum you out, Noah."

"Eh, I'm over it. Besides, how did things go with the Glee Club yesterday? You guys snuck into Carmel High, right?" He winked and patted my shoulder. "I guess you're pretty badass yourself."

"Duh." I nudged him with my elbow and told him everything that happened the day before. He laughed when I described how I ran from members of Vocal Adrenaline and hid in a closet. I could tell that his interest was piqued when I mentioned meeting Brittany. I didn't hide the fact that I was attracted to her, and he found it hilarious that we bumped into her again at the Lima Bean later that day.

"Damn, that must have been a hell of an adventure! It sucks that it happened during football practice. I really wanted to go there with you guys." He looked up and realized we'd been waiting for over fifteen minutes for a waiter. He held his hand up again until he grabbed someone's attention. "Okay, the food better be freaking awesome here, if the service sucks this much," he joked. I looked around, and I couldn't blame the management. The place was freaking full. Every table was occupied.

"Chill, Noah," I said, burying the side of my head into his shoulder. "I'm sure it'll be worth it."

"Sorry for the wait! Can I take your order?"

_I know that voice…_

Jolted from my position, I jerked so fast that my forehead crashed into Noah's jaw. Rubbing the sore spot, I looked up at the waitress standing beside our table. Blue eyes, blonde hair—_that smile._

_Brittany._

* * *

**A/N: Brittany really is a magical creature in my head. She pops out of nowhere like a unicorn.**

**Reviews are appreciated. Tips would be great too. With my current plot, I'm trying to show how Santana relates to almost everyone, so expect all the characters to have some dialogue or another so you can see how she connects with people. But since this is a Brittana fanfic, expect to see the most development in their relationship. :)**


	5. The One Where I Forgot How To Talk

_Why do I keep bumping into her like this?_

"Santana!" Brittany's eyes widened when she recognized me. She looked quickly between me and Noah, and then I was painfully aware of what he and I looked like: his arm was still around me, I was just leaning on him, and there wasn't much space between us in the booth.

_Oh crap._

She blinked a couple times in confusion and smiled at him. Looking back at me, she asked, "So is this your boyfriend?"

"N-no! Hell no! He's not my—I mean, we used to, but then I'm—" I stammered like an idiot.

"Hi, I'm Puck, Santana's ex-boyfriend," said Noah, leaning forward with his hand outstretched towards Brittany. _Thank God, he is quick on his feet!_

Brittany smiled at him and shook his hand, saying "I'm Brittany. I study at Carmel High. Are you from the McKinley Glee Club too?"

"Yeah, a couple of my buddies from football were already there, so I figured what the hell, y'know? It's pretty cool, if you don't mind the random Lady Gaga numbers and Madonna assignments." He laughed and put his arm back around me, rubbing the side of my shoulder that Brittany couldn't see. I knew that gesture of his; it was the _Calm the fuck down, Lopez _sign.

Brittany grinned at him and replied, "Hey, those assignments sound pretty fun. I wish we did stuff like that in Vocal Adrenaline. We just have nonstop practices of the same numbers over and over again."

"Vocal Adrenaline? Cool, you must be really good then."

"Nah, I just joined last week, so I wouldn't say I'm at the same level as the other members."

Noah tapped my shoulder, as if he was giving me a cue to speak up. I thought fast and blurted out quickly, "That's not true, Britt. You were freaking brilliant in your last rehearsal."

I noticed a faint blush on her cheeks when she answered, "Thanks, Santana, but you didn't see how badly I screwed up after you guys got chased out. When I was practicing my solo—"

"That senior was just being a bitch."

_Oops, I think I said that a little too loud._

An awkward silence followed, until Noah spoke up again. "Anyway, ready to order, Lezp—I mean, Santana?"

_Oh right. We're supposed to be eating._

"Um, yeah sure." I stared at the menu and realized that I had forgotten what I wanted to order. "Hey, Britt, what do you recommend?" I asked, glancing up sheepishly. "Like what's the bestseller here?"

"Hmmm, well…" Thoughtful, she bit her lip and tapped her chin with the end of her ballpen. "The spaghetti with meatballs is pretty good. And if you guys are on a date, you can totally try the 'Lady and the Tramp' spaghetti scene—"

"This isn't a date," I interrupted defensively, hoping she didn't get the wrong impression. _I don't want her to think I'm unavailable—What am I even thinking?! I don't even know if __**she's **__gay!_

Noah noticed my uneasiness and added, "Yeah, this is just dinner between friends. Santana and I do this every Sunday. Just a habit from the old days."

"Well, I think it's awesome that you guys still manage to stay really good friends." Her smile was so warm and open, but I thought I noticed something else in her expression.

_Is it just me or does she look a little relieved? Or for God's sake, Lopez, stop being so cocky._

After a couple minutes of scanning the menu, I recalled my order. Noah ordered for both of us. Brittany gave one last smile before hurrying to the kitchen. "Your food will be out in fifteen minutes."

"No problem. Take your time," said Noah, waving her off. As soon as she was in the kitchen, he turned to face me with a huge grin on my face. "Damn, Lezpez, she is hot! I mean, I kinda expected that, but she was… Wow, way hotter than I thought she'd be. And she's part of Vocal Adrenaline? So she can sing and dance? Double hot."

I gave him a playful shove and snarled, "Watch it, Puckerman. I saw her first,"

With his arm around me, he gripped my shoulder and shook me as he said, "Ooh, you're so fierce now, but why'd you turn into a puddle of goo when she was around? It was pretty sad to watch."

"Oh, shut up!" I elbowed him in the ribs, laughing when he winced. "I panicked, okay? I didn't want her to think that we're still dating. Hell, I don't want her to think I'm even straight!"

Rubbing his side, he snorted. "Doesn't matter if she thinks you're gay, straight or dead set about getting into her pants—you have no game around her, Lezpez!"

"I was just surprised, okay? Let's leave it at that."

"I don't know, Santana…" He raised his eyebrow with a smug grin all over his face. "It seemed to be a lot more than just nerves. You really seem to be into her."

That made me laugh. "I just met her yesterday!"

"I'm just saying!" He raised his arms defensively and shrugged. "The heart wants what the heart wants. Just like the Puck-asaurus over here—" He gestured proudly below his waist.

I couldn't help snorting in laughter. "Puck-asaurus? Might as well call it Little Puck!"

"Hey! Now you're just hurting my feelings!" He mocked a hurt expression and added slyly, "Besides, you can't call him that. It's been a while since you last… measured… him."

"Okay, let me stop you there, Noah. Two things you gotta know. First, you're being gross. Please just stop. All the heterosexual innuendo is drying up my lady loins. I actually feel my ovaries shrinking. Second, I'm still gay. I am a hundred percent sure that I don't want the d. If I had to choose between you and Berry, I'd even do her with the lights on."

"You just killed the Puck-asaurus in my pants, Lezpez."

"Need a coffin for him? I can lend you a matchbox."

"Ouch!" Noah laughed and raised his arms in surrender. "You win this round, Santana." He put his arm back around my shoulder, and grinned slyly. "But I bet if Brittany were back at our table, you'd be stuttering worse than Cohen-Chang!"

I laughed and leaned back into him, enjoying the playful banter with my best friend. "Shut up already. Or at least yap about something else. Like… how was practice yesterday?" I was desperate to change the subject.

He thought it over for a moment and shrugged. "Same as always. I made some awesome catches. Finn made some decent throws. The new kid, Sam, is a pretty good quarterback. Mike tried using Artie as a battering ram, but they both bounced off Azimio and Karofsky! That was freaking hilarious. They really are just made of blubber."

I listened as he told me more about his day. It was relaxing to be around Noah like this: no strange obligation to be intimate, no pressure to put out, no pent-up sexual tension (not that there was ever any from me). Having dinner with my best friend was just great.

Ten minutes later, Brittany returned with our food. After setting them down on the table, she said, "Just call me over if you need anything."

Noah straightened up in his seat and smirked at me. I just knew he was going to say something inappropriate. I was about to elbow him in the ribs, but he had already said, "What if we just want _something_?"

"Well, sure, I mean, if you want something on the menu…" Brittany cocked her head, looking at him confusedly. "You guys want to add anything?"

"Y'see, Santana here wants your—"

_That idiot._

This time I was fast enough. I elbowed Noah hard in the gut and stopped him in mid-sentence. Thinking in a panic, I blurted out, "I wanted to know what you recommend for dessert!"

"Oh!" Brittany's face lit up when I asked for her opinion, and she replied, "I have a sweet tooth, so I don't think you're going to like my suggestions. Everyone tells me that my favorite foods will all give my diabetes one day."

I glanced at her fit body and wondered, _If she eats all those sweets, where the hell do they go?!_

"No problem, I like sweets too," I lied. I just needed to change the subject.

"The Choco-Banana Super Sundae. That's my favorite thing on the menu," answered Brittany shyly. "I know it sounds kiddy but—"

"Sounds great! I'll have one for dessert."

She jotted it down on her notebook with a small smile, and hurried back to the kitchen. Once she was gone, I turned to Noah. "What the hell were you thinking?" I asked quietly through gritted teeth. I took a bite of my food, a house special salad, and felt my frustration fade a bit.

_Damn this food is good!_

He was still rubbing his side with a scowl on his face. "Oh come on, Lezpez, it's obvious that you want her number. I was just gonna help you along! Isn't that what lesbros do?"

I was taken aback by his straightforward answer. My annoyance faded completely. "Thanks for the help, Noah. I guess you were just being my wingman, right?"

"You bet." Noah started slurping his spaghetti, and talking with his mouth full. "After all, it's the wingman's job to make sure that his wing woman gets laid!" He grinned through a smile of meatball sauce.

I really couldn't help laughing. I grabbed a napkin and wiped the worst stains off his face. "You pervert. Always just thinking of getting laid."

"No, I was thinking of _you_ getting laid."

"That's even more pervy."

It took us about half an hour to finish our food, since we spent most of our time talking about school, Glee Club and whatever else we could think of. Brittany returned halfway through dinner with my ice cream, and I ended up splitting with Noah. The dessert was really sweet, but I could tell why Brittany liked it so much. I had to share though, because the serving was huge.

Once we were done, we put down our spoons and patted our bellies. "Damn, I'm full…" I groaned, stretching my back against the seat of the booth.

"Me too. Should I get the check already?" asked Noah, raising his hand to catch a waiter's eye.

"Yeah, wait, let me get my wallet for a bit."

"Nah, it's ayt, Lezpez. I can pay for tonight," he said, pulling out his own wallet and shaking his head. "After all, you gave me half of that sundae, and your salad was pretty cheap."

"You sure? Thanks, Noah."

"No prob."

A minute later, Brittany came over with the bill in hand. Noah handed her the exact amount, but when she turned to leave, he said, "Hey, Brittany, Santana said we'll be seeing you tomorrow at the Lima Bean."

"Yeah, after school," replied Brittany. "I can't wait to meet the rest of you guys. Everyone I met yesterday seemed pretty cool already."

"Yeah, we're all pretty awesome in Glee Club," bragged Noah. I had the sudden urge to mention that most of us get free slushie facials at McKinley for being _awesome_, but I decided to let him have his moment.

He continued, "Anyway, I was gonna say that we might be running a little late tomorrow. The guys, I mean. We have football practice, and most of the guys on the team drive their girlfriends around. Kurt usually drives when we can't, but he'll be picking up his boyfriend from Dalton Academy. We wouldn't want you to be alone if you get there early. And Santana here—"

_Oh, I see where he's going with this!_

I pitched in, "I can meet you at the Lima Bean on time, because cheerleading practice is on hold this week. Half of the squad got injured when our coach decided to try using samurai swords as props."

Brittany's eyes widened, and I realized just how blue they are. "Are you serious? That sounds crazy!"

"She's done worse than that." I waved off the thought of Coach Sylvester's other psychotic ideas, and plucked up my courage. "If you give me your number, I can meet you as soon as you get to the Lima Bean. Or if you need a ride, I can pick you up over at Carmel High."

She smiled with a slight lip bite, and replied, "Sounds great! But you really don't have to pick me up. I can use my car—"

"Oh right, you Vocal Adrenaline guys have your own school-issued Range Rovers!" Noah couldn't keep down the excitement in his voice. "That must be awesome, right?"

Brittany shrugged. There was something sad about her whenever Vocal Adrenaline was mentioned. Changing the subject, I pulled out my phone and asked, "So, Britt, what's your number? I'll call you as soon as Glee club's over tomorrow, so I'll know what the plan is."

"My number is…" I input her digits, and asked for her last name. She replied, "Pierce. Brittany S. Pierce."

Noah was in the middle of swallowing a gulp of water when he heard that. He choked on it abruptly, and sputtered, "Your name is Britney Spears?!"

Laughing, Brittany answered matter-of-factly, "No, my name is Brittany S. Pierce. My middle name is Susan; that's what the S stands for."

"That is an awesome name." I couldn't help giggling, which is weird because I _never _giggle.

"Thanks."

_I could have sworn I saw her blush._

Noah glanced at his watch and turned to me. "We better get going, San. It's already way past the time I told your mom I'd have you home."

"Uh-oh." We slid out of the booth, as Brittany cleaned up the table. Then I remembered that we hadn't left Brittany a tip. I fished out my wallet. I was going to hand Brittany a couple of bills when Noah noticed and stopped me.

"A lady never opens her wallet in a restaurant," he joked quietly, pulling his wallet out. He tapped Brittany on the shoulder and handed her a pretty generous tip. "Thanks for the great service, Britt. We'll be sure to come back next weekend!"

She looked so cute as she stared at the money he had placed in her hands. "Whoa, Puck, this is—I mean, thanks for the tip, but this is too much. I just served you guys your food."

"Well, good food tastes even better when handed to you by a pretty girl." He glanced back at me with a cocky smile. "Right, Santana?"

"Right," I answered, trying to keep the stammer out of my voice. I could feel it bubbling in my throat though. "Awesome service, Britt. I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure," replied Britt. "I'll probably be done by four-thirty. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's perfect. We usually finish around that time too."

Holding a tray filled with dirty dishes, Brittany took a step towards the kitchen, but turned back to say, "Now I'm really excited to meet the rest of the New Directions." With that and one last smile, she turned around and headed through the kitchen's double doors.

Noah and I hurried to the parking lot. As we put on our helmets and settled ourselves on his motorbike, he teased me in a sing-song voice. "Someone's excited to see Miss Britney Spears tomorrow. Someone's got her number now."

For the first time that night, I didn't argue or hide.

"You know what, Noah? I really am excited to see her again."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the really late upload, guys. March was a pretty hectic month for me. But now that it's summer vacation, I have free time! Yay. Though I have to admit, all the recent drama with Brittana has kinda put me down. But then I wandered into the reviews of this story, and I realized that I can't disappoint my readers, especially those who've read this piece from start to finish. :) I'll finish this story for you guys. After all, fanfiction might be all we have left.**

**Reviews would be really appreciated.**


	6. The One Where I Texted Brittany

**To Brittany S. Pierce:**

**Hey, Brittany. This is Santana. **

**Send message?**

My thumb lingered over the send button. I was lying on my bed on Monday morning, already dressed and ready for school. That was the third draft I had made. The others seemed too long or too wordy or too excited. At least this one sounded… cool?

_Since when did I worrying about HOW to sound cool? Ugh. Noah's right, I am weird around her._

Groaning, I rolled over onto my stomach and pressed the send button before I decided to start a fourth draft. _There, that's it. Now all I can do is wait. _I got up, leaving my phone on my bed. I walked over to the mirror to check my outfit for the tenth time. Since we didn't have Cheerios practice (I wasn't kidding about the samurai swords that I told Brittany about), I decided to go to school in normal clothes for once. And some part of me (_Okay a huge part of me_) wanted to look good when we met up with Brittany at Breadstix later.

My green and black striped dress looked great. My boots fit them nicely. I even decided to let my hair down for once, instead of the usual high ponytail that Cheerios were mandated by Sylvester Decree. Smirking at my reflection, I felt pretty confident that morning.

Until my phone rang on my bed.

I jumped in surprise and ran over to pick up my phone. My heart was literally pounding in my chest, as I dialed my password and opened the new message, which was a reply from Brittany.

_I've never felt this way around Noah or any of the other guys… Not my crushes on the Cheerios make me feel this nervous._

**From Brittany S. Pierce:**

**Who?**

_Okay, I wasn't expecting a reply like that._

I almost dropped my phone in shock. I re-read the message again, which wasn't hard considering it was just one word. I read it over and over again to make sure I got that word right? Did she forget who I was already? Did she give me the wrong number? Did I type the wrong number? Did I send the message to the right contact? She's the only "Brittany" in my contact list after all. Was she playing a prank on me? Was meeting her or getting her number the prank?

All kinds of paranoid thoughts flooded my mind. I numbly typed a reply.

**To Brittany S. Pierce:**

**Santana from McKinley High. The cheerleader with brown hair. ****Um, I saw you last night at Breadstix while I was out with Puck. ****Sorry, is this the wrong number?**

I sent the message immediately and waited, half-dreading the reply.

"Santana!" My mom called from across the hallway. "Shouldn't you be getting to school already? You might be late!"

I checked my watch and cursed under my breath. I had twenty minutes before my first class. "Thanks for reminding me, Mom!" I grabbed my school bag and hurried downstairs. Racing out the front door, I almost collided with my dad.

"Good morning, sweetie," he greeted, kissing me on the cheek. "Running late for school already?" He patted me on the head playfully with the rolled-up newspaper he had picked up outside.

"Yeah, I lost track of time upstairs." I got into my car and revved the engine. "See you later, daddy!" I blew him an air kiss as I backed out of the driveway.

He waved to me from the front door and called, "By the way, nice outfit, honey." I could tell he had thrown me a wink when he added, "Puck would be an idiot not to compliment you today." With one last wave, he went back inside and closed the door.

Driving down the main road, I still couldn't stop thinking about what my dad had said. They liked Puck as my boyfriend, despite his outward badboy image. Either they really didn't care what other people said about their daughter's boyfriend, or they thought I was out to change him for the better or something like that. If they ever found out that he was actually just my beard and that we were really just best friends… I didn't want to think about their reaction.

I couldn't imagine telling my parents I was a lesbian.

My phone rang, shocking me out of my thoughts. I knew it was probably Brittany, or the number that I thought was Brittany's. I was dying to check the new message, but I was busy driving pretty damn fast, since I had only ten minutes until class.

I was able to park my car in school with five minutes to spare. Getting my stuff from the passenger seat, I took a deep breath and opened my phone.

**From Brittany S. Pierce:**

**Santana! Sorry! :(( My little sister was playing with my phone while ****I was driving her to school. She was the one who texted. I do know ****who you are. This isn't the wrong number, don't worry. :P**

I sighed in relief and got my stuff. While walking to the front entrance, I saw Quinn getting out of her car nearby. "Quinn!" I called, running over to her. "You will not believe who Puck and I saw last night!"

She turned around with a defined scowl on her face. "Wait a minute, you're dating Puck again?" Quinn liked Noah enough as our bro, but she never really approved of him as my boyfriend.

"No, it was just our usual Sunday dinner… As friends!" I insisted. "And you're missing the point! Guess who we bumped into!"

We entered school together, heading for our lockers which were right beside each other. Quinn was still thinking hard, as she grabbed some books from inside. "Is it someone from school?"

"Nope. But you know this person. You definitely know this person!" I couldn't keep the excitement out of my voice, and Quinn noticed that.

With a smug look and a raised eyebrow, she asked, "Was it that blonde Vocal Adrenaline dancer? What's her name again? Brittany?" She closed her locker and leaned against it, waiting for my reply.

"Got it right! Turns out, she works at Breadstix, that new Italian restaurant."

"Great, now I wanna eat there," sighed Quinn. She straightened up and gestured that we should head to class. While walking through the hallway, where everyone else seemed to shrink away from us, she asked in a softer voice. "So… Did you get her number this time?"

I grabbed my phone and showed her Brittany's latest message. Quinn was still scrolling through it as we sat down together in our first class of the day, World History. She handed back my phone with a smile and said, "Well, Lezpez, it must be fate. You've bumped into the same girl thrice in just two days. Why haven't you replied yet?"

_Oh crap. I forgot. I was just too relieved that it was really her._

**To Brittany S. Pierce:**

**I'm glad. It'd be pretty embarrassing if you were somebody ****else! Are you still free later? Lima Bean after school?**

After getting Quinn's approval of the message (_Just to be sure…_), I sent it and hid my phone, because class had already started. A minute later, my phone vibrated again.

_Wow, she texts fast._

Under my desk, I opened my phone and checked my messages. Quinn leaned a little closer to read over my shoulder.

** From Brittany S. Pierce:**

**Yup! I'll see you there at 4:30. :) No need to pick me up though, I brought my car to school today. Can't wait to see you again!**

_She can't wait to see ME?_

That part made me grin like an idiot. I hurried to stuff my phone back into my bag. When I straightened up, Quinn muttered beside me, "Someone's crushing hard."

"Can you really blame me?" I whispered, getting ready to take down notes. "She's gorgeous."

"Amen to that, Lezpez. Even I might think of converting to your side."

I snorted, trying to contain my laughter. The teacher noticed me and called my attention. "Is there something you want to share with the rest of the class, Ms. Lopez?"

Straightening up in my chair, I thought quick and said loudly, "Yeah, I was wondering if Finn Hudson has been using baby lotion recently, because I really love that baby butt shine his cheeks have got going on today."

Quinn stifled a laugh, while everyone else roared in laughter. The teacher gave me a stern glare and turned around to face the board again. _I guess she learned not to play word games with me._ With a smug look, I settled back and leaned into my chair again.

After a while, there was a tentative poke on my shoulder and I turned to see a very confused Finn Hudson sitting right behind me. _Oops, was he there this whole time?_

"What was that for?" he mouthed.

I leaned in and growled, "Your little missed call the other day almost made me target practice for Vocal Adrenaline's egg-throwing skills."

"What do you mean?" He looked genuinely confused, with his head cocked to the side.

Lowering my voice, I told him, "When you called Rachel, we were watching their rehearsals. Rachel left her phone beside me, and it started blasting your stupid Don't Stop Believing anthem around the whole auditorium." At that point, my Finn frustration was already building, so I continued, "I had to play tag and hide-and-seek with Vocal Adrenaline to let the others get away. Running in the damn corridor, hiding in closets, bumping into—"

_Brittany. I'm gonna see her again later._

All of a sudden, I stopped being angry, which is weird because my Lopez Rage is usually unstoppable once it gets started. I saw the apologies ready to blubber out of Finn's mouth, but I realized that if he hadn't called, I wouldn't have collided with Brittany.

_I wouldn't have met Brittany if Tubbers hadn't dialed._

With eyes wide and that manboy face of his, Finn was bursting already. "Santana, I'm really—I didn't know, I swear! I thought you guys were done so I—Oh geez, stupid, I was really—"

I raised my hand and signaled him to stop. "Zip it already, Frankenteen, before Mrs. Hagberg calls me again and makes me find something new to insult about you. Not that you make it hard for me." He closed his mouth and paused, looking at me with surprise. Sure, I'd just insulted him yet again, but I guess he noticed I wasn't angry anymore. I continued, "Look, no harm, no foul. So we can just drop it already."

I shuffled in my chair and faced forward again, but I heard him ask quietly, "Are you feeling okay, Santana?"

Ignoring the question, I looked hard at the board to figure out just what we were discussing in class. Quinn spoke up in a low voice and I could hear the amusement in her tone. "Well, that was nice. I guess someone's in a _really_ good mood today."

I glanced in her direction and she raised her eyebrows smugly. Rolling my eyes in response, I focused taking down notes for the rest of the class.

* * *

During lunch, I sat down at the Cheerios table with Quinn. I'd been texting Brittany the whole morning, so I was in a pretty good mood. So far, all we'd talked about was random chit-chat: "what class are you in?", "I like that class too", "my teacher looks like he swallowed a radioactive frog and he's in mid-transformation". That last text was obviously mine.

"No reply yet?" asked Quinn, sliding closer to glance at my phone.

I shook my head and shrugged. I figured that Brittany was probably eating with friends too. From the other end of the table, someone overheard Quinn's question and whispered to the girl beside her. "Is Santana dating Puck again?"

Her whisper echoed over the whole table. Everyone else turned to look at me. I looked up from my food and glanced at the person who'd asked. It was one of the rookies that Quinn had picked for the team. _What's her name again? B-something… Well, whatever. Time to put on the straight act!_

Trying to sound as smug as possible, I smirked in that girl's direction. "Why wouldn't I be dating him? He's like the hottest guy at this school."

Everyone at the table nodded in unison and fawned in agreement. I glanced over at Quinn and smiled weakly, tired of the whole charade.

She returned it emphatically and said to the whole table in general, "I think they make a really cute couple." To get everyone else off the topic of me and Puck, she turned to the two rookies, the girl who'd spoken up and the one she'd spoken to.

"Bree. Angela."

They snapped to attention under the captain's gaze. The other Cheerios leaned in closer, eager to see some new meat get shred. I pretended to be more interested in my nails, thankful for Quinn's distraction.

Quinn looked at the rookies steadily with a hazel-eyed glare. I didn't envy their position at that moment. I had yet to experience Quinn Fabray's quiet wrath, and I was in no hurry to be in her range of fire. She was my best friend, for sure, but even I was just a little afraid of her.

"Santana told me that you two aren't catching her properly."

_Oh. Those two are the molesting rookies!_

The two of them blushed, almost rivaling the red of our Cheerios uniforms. Quinn continued her scolding. "Just because we don't have Cheerios practice this week doesn't mean we can slack off." She looked around, noting that almost half of the table was empty because of Coach Sylvester's samurai sword spree last week. "You two in particular shouldn't be slacking off. Santana's one of our best flyers. She's freaking irreplaceable. If anything happens to her, I swear I'll—"

I zoned out of the conversation. No point in trying to calm Quinn down when she gets like that. I could tell she also wanted to put the rookies in their place, and show everyone else who was boss. Ignoring how Quinn was describing (in graphic detail) how she would publicly humiliate anyone who harmed the squad's chances at yet another National championship, I glanced around the cafeteria, looking for the other Glee club members.

_Wait a minute... Why am I looking for those losers?!_

I looked back at the Cheerios seated around me. All of them still had their eyes fixated on Quinn. I could almost smell the fear on them. Everyone on the team pretty much sucked up to me and Quinn. There was no challenge, no constant head-butting over power. At least in Glee club, I always found myself in a battle royale over the mic stand against the Hobbit, Effie White and Lady Hummel.

Quinn's lecture started running way too long. She had started discussing the proper stances and positions for a cradle. I had half a mind to stop her rant, when my phone vibrated on the table. Saving the rookies from Quinn Fabray immediately became the last thing on my mind. I opened my phone excitedly.

**From Brittany S. Pierce:**

**Wish me luck, San! :P I'm about to audition for a solo in Sectionals! I'll text you when it's over. P.S. I want to see your Frogman teacher! :D**

_I think my stomach just did a backflip. All those smilies... Ugh, she's adorable._

I replied immediately, hoping that she'd still be able to read it before her audition.

**To Brittany S. Pierce:**

**You're gonna kill it, Britt. I'm sure you'll get that solo! Good luck!**

Quinn suddenly dismissed the rookies with an abrupt "Well, you learned your lesson. Eat your lunch." Dazed out of their fearful stupor, they all went back to whatever else they were doing before Quinn rampaged, like talking about boys or shopping or Madonna- whatever the hell regular Cheerios do.

"Done chewing on the noobs?" I asked, handing Quinn my phone and letting her read my messages. She scrolled down and grinned.

"You two sure are pretty sappy," commented Quinn playfully, giving it back to me. "Already giving nicknames and all…"

"Santana and Puck have nicknames for each other?!" blurted out one of the rookies (_Is that one Angela this time?_) At that point, everyone else just jumped back into asking about me and Puck all over again. I rolled my eyes and tried to zone out of the conversation. A hand on my lap gave me a small comfort, and I thanked Quinn with a nod.

_I'm just so sick of pretending all the time. With my parents, with my friends…_

I looked down at my phone, waiting patiently for a text from Brittany. Something in me felt lighter just thinking about her.

_I don't think I'll have to pretend much longer…_

* * *

**A/N: I hope Santana's change of heart doesn't seem too abrupt. I really want to show how Britt gradually makes her a better person.**

**This chapter was supposed to be around 10 pages long, but I decided to cut it for cliff-hanger purposes of sorts. Or to give some closure to the idea that this chapter is dedicated to feeling like you have to pretend who you are to people you care about. Family, friends, it's all pretty suffocating just to think about it.**

**This chapter's for the pretenders, because one day, we can all stop pretending. :P**

**Also, I love Quinntana moments.**

**Reviews are appreciated!**

* * *

**EDIT: A big thank-you to boredsenseless2 for pointing out the abruptness of Santana's change. Worked on it. :) Stopped Santana from even trying to save the rookies. Let Quinn chew on them for a while.**


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